


Panties, In a Twist

by froofie



Category: BBC Sherlock, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Attraction, Boutique hotel, F/M, Food Porn, Hotel Sex, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Panties, Photography, RPF, Voyeurism, men in lingerie, real places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict Cumberbatch is full of surprises!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panties, In a Twist

**Author's Note:**

> For abadcaseofreichenbach

Twenty-four hours before my first ever photo shoot with Benedict Cumberbatch, I receive a text from the man himself.

_**I’m looking forward to working with you tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve got ideas ready, but may I make a last minute suggestion?** _

**Absolutely. I’d prefer collaboration. What’s your idea?**

_**Do you trust me?** _

**I hear good things from my colleagues about you. So, why not.**

_**I’m flattered, wow. Can you meet me in the lounge of the Zetter Townhouse in East London after tea tomorrow?** _

**Just you and I?**

**_Ideally, yes. Is that okay?_  
**

**I can pare down my equipment and assistants. See you at six.**

_**Whatever is necessary. I don’t want to disturb your process. Thank you!** _

The cab dropped me off across the street from St. John Square. My mouth gaped open watching a flock of magpies swoop in the dusky sky over the building. I struggled with my lighting case into the Georgian-looking hotel. Benedict burst out of the front door to help, easily lifting the case and rubbing my back to soothe the muscle tension. I felt a shiver when he touched me.

Our eyes lingered during introductions.  He commented on liking my freckles. I forgot I had them. I forgot about everything, honestly, except for his eyes.

He inhaled boldly, breaking the spell.

“So! Shall we? I’ve got a lovely room for us.” His proud face lit up, he held the door for me.

“Yes! Tell me all about this new idea of yours.”

“Would you care for a drink to start?”

I stepped into the stuffed lobby. The dark bold pink walls, crammed with antiques and paintings, tassels and Roman columns, appeared to go on forever. I felt held and drawn in. Comforted and sophisticated.   
“Lounge is this way.” I didn’t realize I was just standing in the vestibule, staring again.

I followed him into the fashionably bizarre lounge. A barkeep with a handlebar mustache greeted us heartily. Benedict ordered two Whiskey Sours and soon joined me on a red velvet couch, setting down the drinks. The glasses had tiny white rope winding up the stems.

“This place is amazing! How did you find out about it?” I took a sip, eyes crawling over every inch of the lounge and maybe a little over him. I couldn’t take it all in.

“Stephen Fry had his birthday party here last week. I, uh, took advantage of the room he rented for those who weren’t able to drive home.”

“Fun night?”

“To be honest, yes, it was, not, not in the way your waggling eyebrows would suggest.” He pointed at my forehead and smacked his lips together deliciously after taking a sip. “I really just wanted to be on my own. So I took the room after dinner and read a book in the bath, if you can believe it.”

“No. I get it. Sometimes it’s just nice to not be at home. Too many distractions, there, too.”

“Exactly! No one seemed to understand. They all thought I had a woman up there.”

“Well, it’s okay if you did, it’s no one’s business.”

“I didn’t, though. I don’t get as much solitude as I crave I suppose. I find it necessary to give myself a time out now and again.” He took a drink, grey eyes peered at me for approval over the rim. He was wonderfully open and giving.

I looked around some more.

“I like that it seems hidden. A secret. I’ve passed this hotel a million times and never noticed it. I’d come here if I craved anonymity.”

“See. I like that you get it. Why is it so hard to understand the bliss of enjoying one’s own company?”

“You must be surrounded by extroverts. They don’t seem to understand the need to decompress alone. They get their energy being around people, which means they get frustrated when their introverted mates aren’t there for them all the time.”

“Wow. Insightful.”

“I’m an introvert.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Oh!”

“I mean! Well, um. But you are.”

“Thank you.” I was blushing. Hard. We locked eyes. The back of my neck burned. “I think it’s just the freckles, though.”

“That might be part of it.” He rubbed a hand hard on his thigh.

“Well, if the shoot goes well, you can claim a freckle for your own.” The words fell out of my mouth. Who was I?!

“Oh, do you sell them like they do with stars?”

“No, but that’s a great idea.”

“You’d make a lot of money and a lot of men happy.”

“Well alright then!” I picked up my glass for a sip, to offset my awkwardness, but tipped an empty vessel to my lips. He didn’t notice, thank God.

The lounge started to get busy, so we swiftly made our way to the room. I admit feeling a bit naughty slinking into a fancy hotel suite with such a handsome, sweet semi-stranger. He held the door for me, but the nine year old princess inside me imagined him carrying me over the threshold. It’s cheesy, but it’s true. I’m not easily charmed, especially by actors but I found myself wrapped around his delicate, long finger.

I could see why he wanted to do the shoot here. The suite, as uniquely decorated as the lobby and bar, demanded to be photographed. It was intimate, engaging, unassuming yet bold. I could not figure out how a room could be both dark and light, original but settled. Even the bathroom had modern fixtures, a gigantic tub, but old Naval ornamentation. I wanted to crawl inside the walls and become one with the building. It called to me. I could tell it called to Benedict. Annie Liebovitz could not have produced a better match of setting to model. He easily fit into the atmosphere. Even standing against the hunter green and cream striped walls, he looked as if he _belonged_ here. He bounced from couch to chair to headless bust of an angel on the dresser showing me his ideas. I noticed he overlooked the bed. There was no avoiding this King-sized piece of furniture, with its four posters, Union Jack canopy, crisp white eyelet duvet, a thousand blue and red pillows. I wanted to lay down on it immediately, but it was probably the drink.

“...but you go with your instincts.” His voice broke me out of a spell.

“Pardon?”

“I don’t want to control your process. I was just giving you some ideas on what might look nice.”

“No, no, that’s great. We can do anything you like. Can-can I get some water?” I sat on the closest high-back chair.

“Yes, yes of course!” He popped open the mini-fridge and poured Evian into a glass. He knelt down next to me.

“Are you alright?”

I took a swig.

“Yes, sorry. I’m not much of a drinker and I’m overstimulated by...everything.”

“Should we reschedule? I’m very sorry.” I felt his hand rubbing my back.

“No, no. I’m fine. Not physically ill. I just, there’s a lot to process. Once we start shooting I’ll focus on what’s important.”

“You lead, my sweet.”

“Thank you.” _My sweet._ I ran my fingers over his dark curls without thinking. I quickly removed my hand and reminded myself he was not my lover. Wasn’t he? His eyes closed at my touch. He rested his hand on my knee and settled his chin down on top of it like a Golden Retriever waiting for his master to decide on his next command. Hmm.

We sat there oddly comfortable in the silence for a minute or two. A clock ticked. A sunbeam burned into the plush Oriental rug. I didn’t understand what was happening, but having him close was grounding. Energizing.

Ideas started springing to life.

I went into focus mode.

“Do you need to change or should I shoot you in what you’re wearing?”

“I have a couple of outfits, it’s up to you.” He unzipped a wardrobe bag hanging on the back of a door.

“It’s a fairly eclectic setting, let’s go simple.” I pulled out a shirt that looked promising. “I like this button down and the black jeans you have on are great.”

He immediately pulled off his white t-shirt, revealing a smooth-skinned tanned torso. He took his time hanging up the t-shirt before shifting into the soft green button down. I found myself boldly watching him. Something about him seemed to encourage my behavior. My eyes scanned down from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist.

“Do you swim?” I heard the words come out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

“Yeah! I love it.” He didn’t seem to clock my flirty subtext, which was fine by me. I quietly told myself to calm the fuck down. But my tongue. My tongue, loosened by booze and Benedict, wanted to _paint over his skin_.

“Where do you want me?”

“Pardon?!”

“Should I sit or stand or...?”

“Oh! Um. Let’s start in the leather chair. We’ve got good light still coming from the window. It will make your skin luminous.”

“Like a fairy,” a funny voice emerged from his mouth as he hooked a leg over the armrest, smiling to himself.

“Come again?” I laughed, fixing his hair back from my unexpected journey into his curls.

“Nothing. Sorry.” His grin lit up the entire room. My fingers lingered once again.

He fell into model mode, breathing and communing with the camera. He was extraordinarily easy to shoot. I quickly heard a beep from my SLR indicating I’d run out of memory. I had taken fifty photos without blinking _(blunking?)_. I moved to change memory cards and we set up a new area in which to capture him, this time, in the nautical bathroom. He stood in the tub, hand over eyes as if looking out to sea for land. Charming. Once again, fifty shots went by. I normally only took thirty photos in a shoot before I got bored.  It was clear to me that I wasn’t just taking pictures of him. I was touching him through the lens, winking at him with the aperture, kissing him with the flash. I was losing strength holding up my camera, I just wanted to lay down with him.

“Should we take a break? Order another round? Maybe something to nibble on?” he offered, stepping out of the tub. My mind took it’s own break with the last sentence. My lips imagined themselves on his nipples.

“Mmm...that sounds...lovely.”

He called down and we sat on the floor, laptop set up on a coffee table that was decoupaged with newspaper headlines from the sixties. His energy rose as we progressed through the shots, eventually he put his arm around me, hugging me enthusiastically.

“These are extraordinary!”

“You think?”

“Oh God, yes. I’m usually only happy with three or four frames. I admit I’m a bit critical of myself and how I look. But you’ve captured my good side quite well. My mother will want to see these. Well done, you!” His hand slowly rubbed my side. He squeezed. I turned my head to his.

“Thank you.”

Eyes scanned faces before settling in on the other’s lips. The hand at my side pulled me closer to him. He swallowed. My heart thumped loudly.

No, wait.

That was the door.

Room service!

Benedict quickly jumped to answer it.

“I can put this on my company card!” I called out.

“No. This is on me.”

He returned with a bottle of red and a platter of antipasti.

“Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

I’d moved my laptop off the table so he could set everything down.

“Oh, this is lush.” I piled up a plate full of grilled zucchini, plump oily olives and prosciutto.

We were quiet as we stuffed our mouths with deliciousness, the occasional moan escaping. Our eyes met and we had a laugh over how obvious it was we were substituting food for something else.  We took giant sips of wine, which didn’t help calm the laughter or my blushing. I noticed he had dimples. I wanted to dive into one. I tongued a tiny ball of mozzarella in my mouth instead.

We'd made a massive dent in the platter and our glasses were empty. Benedict lazily laid himself against an ottoman. Somehow I managed to stand and walk around the room, feeling out what we should do next. The bed was calling to me. I started to set up a lighting instrument by the nightstand. I crawled on the mattress to take a meter reading by the pillows, my arse sticking up. As I slunk off the bed backwards, I bumped into Benedict, who had moved closer without my awareness. He pressed up against me. I didn’t turn around. But I wanted to. I wanted to turn around and kiss him.

“Bed, huh?”

“Is that alright?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want me in a different outfit?” His hands wrapped around my upper arms. I could feel his heartbeat through his chest and my back.

“Uh...Hmmm. I -”

“Do you want to see something?”

“Yeah, sure.” I turned around. I started fiddling with the toggle switch on my camera, estimating how much memory I had left.

He started to unbutton his trousers. I just stood there, watching. I dropped my light reader when I saw the red lace peeking out as his zipper went down.

“Are you wearing...panties?” I mostly mumbled to myself.

“Yeah!” He laughed like a little boy excited by this ingenious idea of his.

“Wow. Um. Is this a, uh, normal thing for you?”

“Oh no, I just thought it would be fun. Is it alright?” It was more than alright, my groin throbbed in reply. I doubt he heard.

“Yeah, it’s intriguing. Where did you, uh...?”

“My friend, Lara, bought them for me. She played a dominatrix on an episode of _Sherlock_ and she gave them to me as a cheeky gift when we wrapped. Sometimes I wear them for kicks.”

“Can I...shoot you in them?”

“If you want. I mean, please don’t use them for the article.”

“No. I’ll only use what you agree to publish. In fact, I’ll change out my flash card and give it to you for you to keep. Stay there!” I changed out the charge and started shooting him as he looked down at his parted fly, held open by very long fingers. I got him from every angle before I told him to continue. He started to pull down his trousers.

“Wait!” I called. “Turn around.” He did with relish, seeming to enjoy my audience. I caught his beautiful roundish bottom covered in red lace just barely emerging from perfectly masculine clothing. I swallowed hard. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.

I was kneeling very close. Close enough to feel his heat. My sensuality awoke in the presence of his boldness. My breathing changed. The urge to touch grew. I looked up to find him gazing down.

“Shall I...um. Do you want to shoot the front?”

“Yes. Yes please. Unbutton your shirt.” I was going for it.

“Take it off?”

“Not yet.”

I watched as his fingers worked to undo the buttons. Time slowed. What had been professional now became private. His shirt fell open, matching the fly on his pants. A tease of tan skin, then red lace under black jeans. I held down the shutter button. I stood and pressed myself against him fearlessly. We had nothing but green lights for each other.

“May I?”

“Be my guest.”

I shifted his jeans over his rear, just far enough down that I could see how posh the bikini panties were, how well they fit him, hugged his curves, accented his skin tone.

“Okay, slowly take off your shirt.” I caught the action from behind. I heard the garment crumple up on the floor. I heard the beep of my camera. Fuck.

“I’m out of memory.”

“Can you upload some to your laptop?”

“I could but it might take a while. It’s almost,” I looked at my iphone, “eleven o’clock! How did that happen?”

“We’re in a zone.” He flopped down in a Louis XIV chair next to the nightstand, pants still partially down, naked from the waist, up. He was completely in the dark about how beautiful he looked in repose. He tilted his head back on the chair, closed his eyes, seemingly unaware that I could see him straining against the fabric of the panties. My brain managed to move my fingers so I could take a sneaky shot with the camera on my phone.

“Clearly. Wow. Well, I don’t want to waste your time. We did get some incredible shots earlier so I feel fairly accomplished. Although...” For once I stopped my tongue from going further. His head popped up.

“What is it?”

“I’m just sorry we didn’t get to use the bed is all.” I started to collect my things, moving as slowly as possible, not wanting to leave but unsure of how to stay. I stood over him, holding out the memory stick. He took it from me, lingering his hand over mine. He reached out, hooking a finger in the belthole of my jeans, fishing me closer. He put the memory stick back in my pocket. He cupped his hand around my hip, looking up at me. I openly scanned his body with my eyes. Before I could make another decision, I found myself sitting perpendicular on his lap, having been swiftly reeled in. My arms hung over his shoulders, his around my waist, our faces close. His eyes stayed on my lips. I let out a nervous giggle.

“What are you doing?”

“Choosing my freckle.” He scanned my face, saw what he was looking for. He tilted my head up, moving closer. “I think I’ll have this one here on your upper lip. May I?”

I nodded, too weak to give a fuck. I parted my mouth slightly, he did the same. His lips hugged mine. I closed my eyes and let him taste me. The kiss widened, a new intimacy was reached and we went at each other. I found myself stunned and energized by his intense passion. He was the first to moan, his strong arms held me with desire, his kisses were gentle but demanding. I found myself soaking him in and soon realized I was giving nothing back. I pushed my mouth wide on his, finding his tongue, licking his plump bottom lip. But the wine haze cleared and I found myself off his lap, leaning against the bed, shocked at my behavior, wiping my mouth.

“What’s the matter?”

“I...I’m so sorry. I...I don’t do this with everyone I shoot, I swear.”

“I know. And I don’t do this with my photographers. It’s not about that, though. You’re darling and I can’t help myself. I feel something, don’t you?”

“I’ve been smitten since you took my lighting case.”

“Well then come over here.”

“No-”

“-okay, that’s fine. What should we-”

“-you come over here.”

“Gladly.”

He stood up, I turned off the lighting instrument. The room went semi-dark. He walked over, trousers at half-mast, and hovered over me. I ran my hand over the material covering his lovely bottom.

“These are very nice.”

“You like them?”

“Mmm, yes. You pull them off well. You’re more masculine, if that’s possible.” I ran my hands over his hips, forcing his jeans to fall down his legs. He stepped out of his shoes and shrugged the black garment down to his ankles.

“I particularly like the little bow here in front.” I hooked my finger in the waistband, pulling him in. The tiny panties could not contain him, his full cock made itself immodestly known. I lightly thumbed over him, reveling in the sensation of lace and hardness mixed with wetness. He leaned his head down to capture my mouth with his as I continued touching him. With every new move I made, he pressed his mouth harder onto mine. It became a momentary experiment, how much passion can one man express for what was happening to him? The answer: an abundant amount. I started kissing back just as hard, pulling the waistband of the panties down as I grasped him completely, rubbing and kissing, kissing and rubbing. Both of his hands held my face to his. I was so wet for him. I let go to hold him to me. He pressed me against the bed, grabbing at my rear and I fell softly backwards. We crawled, me crab-like, him hovering above, to the center of the bed. Finally! Our arms wrapped around each other, letting go completely. Awkwardness, gone. Politeness, vanished. We pushed into each other with hands and lips, tongues and bodies. I felt him all over: hands running down my side and between my legs, tongue licking up my neck and into my ear. His grunts and moans seemed tangible. My shirt came off, I don’t know who removed it. He found more freckles on my shoulders and arms to delightfully devour. His jeans fell to the floor, the panties stayed on. I wrapped my legs around him. We rocked side to side ravaging one another. I found myself on top, his large hands exploring my sides and back before unhooking my bra and exposing my breasts. He sat up to play with them in his mouth. I held his head close, his hot lips and tongue a delight on my skin. I inhaled the scent of his hair and rocked myself over him. My jeans were completely in the way and so very damp. We stopped for a moment to awkwardly remove them.

“No panties.” He licked his lips and smiled up at me as he made the discovery of my own secret, unbuttoning my fly, pressing his nose into me as he pulled the jeans over my bottom. Our bodies separated for a moment as I shed them completely. I looked at him from my placement on the bed. He felt right to me, it felt natural to be here with him, naked on a hotel bed. I wanted him more than I’d wanted all previous partners combined. And though, yes, we were about to be intimate, there was no urgency.

There could be no urgency.

“Do you have a...?” I asked as he undid the immaculate bed so we could crawl under the covers.

“It’s been a while, I, no. Fuck.  Do you?”

“No. Not normally policy for me to screw my clients.”

“Let me check the bathroom.”

There was nothing in the bathroom.

Damn.

Cock-blocked by professionalism and a dry spell. He stood at the edge of the bed, dark pink cock swollen and thrusting out and over stained red lace panties.

“Do you have any diseases to report?”

“No. You?”

“Nope. Why don’t you just come over here and we’ll think of something.” I patted the empty space next to me. He hopped in. We immediately fell into another embrace, bodies warming up against each other.

“I’m not going to last long.” I heard him in my ear. I pressed my hips up against him. His moan indicated he wasn’t joking. I wound my pelvis around, creating friction between our bodies.

“Please.”

“Okay. Lie back.” We switched positions. I kissed him from his mouth, to his jaw, neck, chest, belly. I sucked on his head, causing him to hiss.

“Just a taste, I swear.” I hooked my fingers around the red lace.

“These are just...sublime. So unexpectedly sexy on you. You might just find a thank you package from me in the post soon.”

“Please do. Anything for you.”

“You say all the right things.” I pulled his panties off and tossed them on the lampshade by the bed.

“I mean it.”

I ran my palm over his cock. Precome seeped out. I slicked him up as much as I could. I returned to kissing his mouth, crushing my breasts against him. I started to rock my hips around. He responded with another moan in my mouth.

I hovered my body over his, closed my eyes and swirled my hips around, grinding my wet open sex on him, keeping pressure where I liked it, slicking both of us up. He raised his hips to mine, bucking my body. He cried out. We fell into separate concentration, but our heaving breaths matched up. Our passions escalated and we rutted with abandon. He came undone underneath me, eyes squinting, hands digging into my hips, pushing against me and our sweet friction. We both let go. I felt hot wetness spread out between my thighs as he came. The tightness in me released and I shut my eyes again, feel my mind expand and my body shiver. I closed our bodies together, he held me tight, warm breath exhaling into my hair. I felt a kiss at the top of my ear. 

A moment passed. I started to laugh.

“What?!”

“Nothing. I just haven’t grinded on anyone like that since I was seventeen.”

“It was nice, though.”

“Very.”

Silence followed.

“Sorry it went by so, uh, quickly. Don’t put that in the article.”

“I’m just the photographer so you’re off the hook. No worries. I think the foreplay started when we met.”

“Mmm, yes, that would be accurate. I picked the right day to wear those.” He turned his head to the bedside lamp. He tickled the back of my neck. I giggled and moved closer.

"Did you plan for me to see them?"

"Not initially, no. I thought maybe they would help me channel new energy, different ideas for the shoot. It's come to my attention I sort of do the same poses. Trying to mix things up. But when I saw you get out of that cab and it was all I could do to find a way to show them to you, hoping you'd like them."

"We'll call this a _very_ happy accident, then."

"Indeed. More ways that one." I ran a hand down his chest to his stomach to his... “How long do we have the room and where is the closest chemist?” 

“For the night." He sucked in a breath, exhaling a sigh. "Shall we pop down for a proper dinner and take it from there?”

“Sounds lovely.” I started to sit up and put on my bra. “But...now I seem to have some ideas of my own. Think we could try them out later?”

“What devious thought did I just see flash behind those beautiful eyes?”

I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“You’ll see.”

 

In the morning we cheekily booked the room again, went to Agent Provocateur as soon as it opened and continued our voyeuristic lingerie adventure for (two!) more nights.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to badcaseofreichenbach for the plot bunny when I was all dried up. Sorry it took so long. 
> 
> This hotel does exist!  
> http://www.thezettertownhouse.com/


End file.
